The Chick Who Writes Fiction
by ImpassionedWriter
Summary: A series of Wincest tales all wrapped together in one, with a nice little bow on top! Okay, so maybe I'm a bit of a tease. But read it; like Sam, you'll be begging for more! *Wink*
1. Inspiration

_For those of you wondering, I am not the 'chick' in this story xD I really do my best to not encroach into the sacred space that is Fanfiction. But Diana is the type of girl I think would be fun to hang out with :) Also, the pressure and difficulty in creating the perfect story is 100% real~_

 _Anywho, enjoy! And if you like a story snippet and think it should continue I will finish it and put on here for you to read._  
 _As always, I love you guys ;* Tata~_

* * *

...oOo...

In a dimly lit, overstuffed apartment in Williamsburg, Kentucky, all was quiet except for the rapid clicking of fingers tapping on a keyboard. A fiery red headed teenager was attempting to create the best Wincest Fanfiction ever.

It was not going well.

She had only gotten as far as throwing out idea after idea... Waiting for inspiration to spark.

Wait! Maybe she had it!

 _"So are you two totally gay for each other or what?"_  
 _Sam choked on his Pepsi and Dean's face turned bright red._

Diana crossed her arms and leaned back, staring at her computer screen with a frown. So what if she called them out? They would just deny it.

There had to be an easier way to force the boys into a relationship besides knocking them out and throwing them into bed. Again.

Popping her knuckles, the crimson haired teen pulled the keyboard closer and began typing out another idea.

 _"It's too little, way too late." Dean muttered, turning his back on Sam and placing the rifle back on the gun rack._

 _The younger Winchester breathed deeply, trying to slow his heartbeat back to normal, even though every breath felt like torture. The thought of his own brother being so paranoid that he would greet his guest with a gun was painful. And that he would hold their parent's descision against him... It hurt. Physically, it hurt._

 _It had taken every ounce of courage Sam could muster, to make it up that driveway. And now his whole reason for coming seemed pointless._

 _"I just wanted to see you. Since dad died I... haven't heard from you. I- I thought that would change."_

 _Dean huffed a laugh and walked to the kitchen, throwing back, "If they wanted us to know each other, then they wouldn't have kicked me out at sixteen."_

 _Sam swallowed nervously and waited in the living room for Dean to return. When he did emerge, carrying a beer, he passed Sam without so much as a glance and sat down in an armchair. Timidly, the hazel-eyed boy spoke, "Why *did* they kick you out? They never told me."_

 _Dean peered up at his brother and watched him in silence. Finally, he said lowly, "You should leave."_

 _Immediately, Sam's mouth dropped open. "Why?" He asked, trying to hide the break in his voice._

 _"Because I said to. The gun was a precaution. This is a warning."_

 _Sam exploded, "We haven't seen each other in years! What is your problem- Why won't you explain it to me?!"_

 _Without warning, Dean shot up out of his chair, set down his beer, and shoved Sam into the wall. In an instant, he was there, all over him. One hand gripping his throat and holding him to the wall, the other pulling up his shirt and finding its way inside. The whole time he was kissing him, not too gently. Forcing his tongue into Sam's mouth, ignoring the moans his brother made, Dean thouroughly and deliberately explored his body._

 _By the time they broke apart, Sam was panting. He gazed at Dean through dark lashes and could barely hide the shock he felt. But something about the way his older brother was touching him felt good, better than it should have._

 _Emerald eyes filled with lust were the only thing Sam saw as Dean whispered huskily, "Now you know why they wanted me to stay away from you. Even at twelve, you were the most beautiful kid in the world. I couldn't keep my eyes off you. And they noticed."_

 _It felt so deliciously wrong to indulge in every voice telling him to let go... Just throw yourself at his feet and let him do whatever he wants to you!_

 _But Sam knew..._

Knew what? That it defied logic to let a guy who wanted to plow you at twelve anywhere near you now?

Diana closed her eyes and groaned. Even if that part was okay, there was no way anyone would throw their kid onto the streets. Maybe he was adopted? But, that took out the crazy twist of them being related... Maybe that was okay? There was a group of fans for every ship that sailed. Surely there would be fans for this, too.

Ugh. No, no, no.

Diana pressed the backspace key and pushed down on it with an unnesecary amount of pressure. "Damn fudge it!" She hissed, erasing the words she had just written.

Time to start fresh. After a break. A snack, a drink, a movie. Something that would get her brain juices flowing.

After indulging in a few minutes rest, Diana couldn't resist the urges drawing her back to the computer. She stared at the screen and with a clickety-clack she was off again...

 _Sam Winchester was just like any other teenage boy, searching for his place in the world._

 _Okay, maybe it wasn't normal for an eighteen year old to pack up his belongings on the night of his birthday and hit the road. But too many nights at the merciless hands of his alcoholic mother had taken their toll. He never fought back and he wouldn't make any more 911 calls when she was getting dangerous... He would just leave._

 _It was his second day walking, and his feet were killing him. If only someone stopped and offered him a ride besides shady looking older men. But it seemed his prayers were going to go unanswered._

Prayers... What a sweet way to introduce one of the angels into a mortal story. But, no. This was going to be a Winchester best-seller!

 _He trudged along, wondering if maybe he should have taken his mom's car for this journey. But he couldn't risk having her send out the cops after him. A clean break was best for both of them._

 _Concentrating on moving one foot in front of the other, he almost missed the soft purr of an engine from behind. A sleek black Impala drove up and slowed to a stop beside him. Sam looked up, hoping for all he was worth to be met with a trustworthy face._

 _The intensity of the green eyes he saw was enough to stop his breath. The man in the car was beautiful. He was in his early twenties, with dark blonde hair, and an easy smile. "Where are you headed?" He asked, his deep voice making the hairs on Sam's neck stand up._

 _"I- I'm really not sure."_

 _The man nodded and shrugged, "You need a lift?"_

 _Sam swallowed and briefly let his mind race over the dangerous ends he could come to if he got in this car. Then his aching feet took precedence and he gladly accepted, climbing into the passenger's seat._

 _As they drove down the road, Sam peeked over at the man. Strong jaw, square shoulders, firm build... He was pretty hot._

 _Bleh. Why couldn't Sam look that good? Maybe if he had a girlfriend life would hold more meaning._

 _"So what are you running away from?"_

 _Sam started and looked at the blonde in surprise. "What?"_

 _With a confident but gentle grin, the man elaborated, "People don't usually take to the road unless they're heading toward something or away from it. And since you don't know where you're going, that only leaves..."_

 _"My mom."_

 _Emerald flashed over once more and Sam turned his face away, directing his attention to the scenery blurring by. He knew it was improper conversation but he let the words come out anyway, not bothering to stop them, "She always loved to drink. More than she loved her family. After she drove my dad away... Well, I guess I reminded her of him. So she vented her anger on me every chance she got. I told myself when I turned eighteen I wasn't putting up with it anymore."_

 _The man let out a deep breath and muttered, "Sounds like your mom and my dad have something in common. But I didn't put up with it until I was eighteen. I guess you couldn't do that... considering it was your mom. But no one should be made to go through that. It's fucked up."_

 _Sam silently agreed and felt tension evaporate with the topic. "So... What's your name?"_

 _"Dean. Dean Singer."_

Wait... Singer? What, did he take his wacky uncle's name? Shouldn't Sam be going by his mom's maiden name? Diana racked her brain, but she couldn't for the life of her remember it.

Oh, well. Skip on to the smut!

 _"Make yourself at home." Dean said, slipping out of his leather jacket. Sam was so close to him, he could smell the cologne the other man wore. He tried to distract himself by looking around. It was a nice place for someone who said he made his money playing cards._

 _"You asked me how you could pay me back," The blonde said, laying his jacket down and slowly walking across the room, "I think I've got an idea."_

 _"Yeah?" Sam gulped, noting the hunger in those deep gleaming eyes._

Not smutty enough.

 _"Ah, Dean!" Sam tried to pull himself free. It felt good, more than good, but being confined made Sam nervous. "I told you," Came the velvet smooth voice near the brunette's ear, "I don't play children's games." He nibbled the vein in Sam's neck, and the noise the younger boy made had him fighting to hold back. One hand slid down Sam's writhing body, making him tremble even more. He swallowed the pleas threatening to spill forth through wet lips._

 _His body rose into Dean's touch; everything felt so good. Mouth, hands, leather... He didn't know which to focus on, or even if he could at this point. Sweat made his skin slick, but did nothing to cool the heat from the other's embrace._

 _Dean's hand took him and stroked, softly at first, then deliciously quickened. In the dark, their lips found each other and they were kissing. Sam was no longer coherent. His tongue moved on its own, accommodating Dean's dominance. His bottom lip quivered and his partner took that as an invitation to bite it._

A little 'Fifty Shades of Grey' there wasn't it... But the idea wasn't bad. A legal youth, with no idea how the world works, accepting a ride from the dashing card shark who likes kinky sex. Hehehe.

Diana stopped chuckling and read over her work for a third time. It seemed to be progressing well enough. But, sometimes she tended to take things too fast in the bedroom scenes, throwing the entire story off-kelter. If only she could slow herself down and get over the embarrassment to create longer, more detailed love scenes. Explicitness! That was the key!

But was it really? What if that took her story from 'Wow, this was so deep and romantic' to 'Is this porn?'...Grr.

What a fine line fangirls must balance themselves on. Of course, there are those that just say _fuck it_ and move on.

"Too bad I can't be like that." Diana mumbled aloud, still staring at the computer screen. With a tempered sigh, she moved the mouse to the 'Music' folder and double clicked. Time to get into the zone. She had work to do!

* * *

 _And here I leave you wanting more, like a cruel mistress! But have no fear, this is the type of thing I could write continuously xD So many tangents to explore, so much diversity in these settings, so many ways to get the boys together! I love it! Bwahaha!_

 _Anywho, if you liked this, just wait until you see what comes next! ;D And as I mentioned before, if you would like to see any of these snippets turned into a full-fledged story then let me know!_

 _Adieu~ *kisses and hugs*_


	2. Tragesty

Later that night, the red haired teen was ready to flog Sam and Dean to death.

While angst-y teenage boys bitched about their lives from her speakers, Diana ground her teeth together and glared. Things had been going well, but all of a sudden it was as if the story resisted her guidance and went in directions she didn't want. There was no chemistry at all and then *boom* someone was on top! This was no way to write a touching story!

What in the world was wrong with her brain?!

 _"I appreciate you helping me out." A fourteen year old Sam said over his shoulder, smiling._

 _The tall, honey-haired seventeen year old that lived next door flashed a grin and replied, "Sure thing. I had a part-time job one Summer to make extra cash. But I was doing yard work mostly... I've never been much of an animal person."_ _Both boys trudged through thick green bushes that haloed the forest behind their neighborhood._

 _Sam had been hired to watch a dog while its owner went on vacation. But, early that morning, the dog had broken its leash and vanished into the woods. When Sam went out to begin his search, he ran into the neighbor's boy, Dean, who offered to help him. They weren't particularly close but had talked before at neighborhood cookouts. Plus, Sam didn't want to take on the task by himself, so he eagerly accepted._

 _The shorter teen laughed, "They aren't so bad. It's usually a dog or cat I have to watch, nothing too difficult. Feed them, pet them, and they pretty much take care of themselves the rest of the time. Besides, dogs are fun! Always friendly and happy..." Sam trailed off with a tiny smile._

 _He didn't catch Dean's whisper, "...Kind of like you."_

 _They made their way deeper into the woods, Sam stumbling from time to time, and Dean as sure footed as if he were raised hiking. Calling the dog's name got no answer and Sam started to fear not finding him; at least safe._

 _"What kind of person names their dog Lucifer?" Dean quipped from behind, careful not to step on Sam's heels as he slowed to cross a fallen tree._

 _"I don't know, the brunette answered, "But I think it's a good name. Kind of... cool."_

 _"I had a cat once. He was black as midnight." Dean remembered fondly. "I named him Castiel. Thought it sounded sort of... ethereal."_

 _The younger boy stopped and looked back in confusion, "What does *that* mean?"_

 _"I think it means heavenly. Or something like that."_

 _With a short nod, Sam started walking again. "Okay. I like it._ Ethereal _." He tried the word out, liking the way it felt on his tongue._

 _Suddenly there was a push from behind and Sam was falling forward, barely catching himself with his hands before his face hit the ground. "Ow! What-?!"_

Diana clamped her hands together in front of her face and concentrated on the scene playing out in her mind. There were two distinct paths this scenario could take.

Either Dean is a good kid who pushes Sam down and covers him with his body because he sees danger and is protecting him. Sam sees it, too, and stills...

Or:

The older teenager gags him and turns out to be a slightly disturbed, dark, lustful boy with designs for Sammy.

Maybe he broke the dog loose and locked it up in his basement? He had a black cat, gets all hot and horny for the innocent boy next door, and isn't above taking the forceful route when it comes to fulfilling his desires.

He might be just like one of the characters out of a stalker movie... Misguided and just a little touched in the head when it comes to boundaries and making good decisions.

How was Diana supposed to make that choice? What would her readers like more? Should she base it on her own preferences?

Why, oh why, couldn't she just take a poll.

Oh, wait.

The sibling thing. Whoops...

Clearing her throat, Diana swiftly saved the file and opened a new, empty 'Notepad'. She mulled over a new storyline, perking up when a song by All Time Low came on wailing about therapy. Instantly, the brain cogs went to work, grinding out yet another situation involving the boys.

 _'A Brother's Tragesty' _ (Heehee, word play!)

 _Dean Winchester was a six foot tall, slender yet muscular, dirty blonde hottie who had girls falling down in the streets begging to be with him. He was in the longest, secure relationship of his life, totally in love with his car, and had all the free time in the world. Life was nothing but smooth sailing for the twenty-one year old._

 _Except for one minor problem._

 _No, really... A_ minor _problem. The kind with two legs, bright eyes, and a naivete that would drive anyone insane._

 _Of course, as far as kids go, especially teenagers, Dean's little brother Sam wasn't much trouble._

 _It was just... His face. And his slim body. And that soft, hushed tone when he spoke. And the way he always had that adorable little nose between the pages of a book he wouldn't need to read until college._

 _It made Dean crazy._

 _..._

 _The older Winchester was moving around the kitchen, slapping together a combination of ingredients only a man could stomach, building himself a sandwich to hold him over until dinnertime. His father, John, worked on the road a lot and often the boys found themselves sharing meals alone._

 _Of course, since he'd started dating Lisa, Dean rarely ate with Sam anymore. The seventeen year old usually nourished himself with hot pockets buried his attention in a book. It helped make the solitude bearable._

 _On this particular day, Dean was taking Lisa out to the mall. As much as he hated shopping trips, it was part of his responsibilities as a decent boyfriend to suck it up and suffer silently._

 _Striding out of the kitchen, sandwich in hand- and mouth-, he passed Sam on the couch, long legs stretched out to the other end, reminding Dean how tall he'd gotten. Pausing for a moment, Dean mumbled with his mouth full, "'Cha read'n?"_

 _Sam glanced up and then back down, answering, "It's a book about Psychology."_

 _Dean lifted and eyebrow. Sam wanted to be a shrink? This was news to him. Last he'd heard the kid wanted to hunt for treasure in the ocean._

 _...He would be fucked if Sam ever figured out the way his older brother's mind worked._

 _"I'm going to head out and meet Lisa." Dean said with false cheerfulness before taking another large bite._

 _Sam didn't meet his eyes and muttered, "Have fun."_

 _Dean could have swore he saw a change in the boy's posture, like he tensed up. No, it must have been his imagination._

 _Just as the older of the two was about to leave the room, Sam spoke up quickly, "Will you be coming home tonight?"_

 _Dean faltered mid-step and thought before he answered. "Yeah." Sometimes he stayed over at Lisa's or purposefully didn't make it in until the wee hours of the morning. But he was afraid being absent too much might mess Sam up, and that couldn't happen at any cost. After all, that was the reason for all of this right?_

 _...He could spend a few harmless hours with his brother._

 _"Dad called and said he'll be gone for at least three more days." Sam said, and Dean nodded in understanding. Fishing the keys out of his pocket, Dean almost missed the next thing Sam said, "I... I'm going on a date tonight."_

 _Dean stilled._

 _Sam went on, "If I'm not back by the time you get home, you can eat without me. There's a pizza in the freezer. All you do is take the plastic off and put it in the oven on... Well, I'm sure you know how to read direc-"_

 _"Who is she?" Dean cut off Sam's light hearted words with a carefully level voice._

 _"Oh, uh, she's in my Advanced Math class. Her name is Ruby."_

Ruby. Sounds like a stripper's name. _Dean thought with distaste. He didn't want to feel resentful, but he did all the same. Never before had Sam been on a date or even mentioned a girl's name. Dean wondered why he thought it was okay if Sam didn't ever find a girlfriend; but he knew the answer._

 _His brother wouldn't stay a kid forever, but Dean was still surprised. He thought there was more time before Sam grew up and left home. But every day he was getting older; and closer to creating a new life, one without Dean in a leading role._

 _It was painful. And bitter. And it hurt like nothing else._

 _Keeping his casual demeanor in place, Dean forced himself to refrain from growling, "I won't be home tonight after all. Have fun on your_ date _. Remember to use a glove."_

 _"What?" Sam's clueless voice quipped and Dean squeezed his eyes shut, mentally berating himself._ Why did I say that?

 _Without another word, Dean left and clamped down his emotions as best as he could. Nothing like years of practice to master a poker face._

 _..._

 _"Lisa, I didn't mean it that way!"_

 _The curvy yoga instructor ignored the protest and stalked up her driveway, seething. "Yeah, right! I know you, remember? You always say exactly what you mean!"_

 _Dean scrambled out of his Impala and up the pavement after her. "I was wrong! It wasn't supposed to sound like that."_

 _Spinning on her heel, Lisa faced Dean and cried, "How else would it sound?!" Imitating his voice, she quoted his previous words, "'Those are cute, but do you need to advertise being a slut?"_

 _"I didn't mean it in a bad way!"_

 _"Oh, you meant it as a compliment. Thanks a bunch!" She screamed at him, rushing towards the house._

 _He followed her, pleading, "Come on, babe. I shouldn't have said it. I know you're not a slut. You just act like one when you're drunk."_

 _Throwing open the front door and glaring daggers at him, the woman shrieked,_ "Go to Hell!"

 _She slammed the door in his face before he could stop her. With a sigh, Dean shook his head and made his way back to his car. There was no talking to her when she was like this. They'd played this scene out many times before. So he called her a slut, so what? It was her idea to sleep with him when she was drunk and ask him out the evening after just to screw again. One or two sweet words and they were 'romantically involved'._

 _Of course, she put out so often Dean didn't have to look for it anywhere else. But it was almost impossible to get along with her when they were one on one outside of the bedroom._

 _The blonde man reached home just before dark only to find it empty. He knew there was a chance Sam was on his date but even then the quiet was unexpected._

 _Part of him thought maybe his brother had cancelled or made it up. But apparently not._

 _Dean opened the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. He sat down in an armchair, lights out, and waited._

 _..._

 _Two hours later, Dean heard a car stop outside, followed by the sound of someone getting out._

 _A minute passed and then the car drove away._

 _Another minute and the front door opened. Sam's silhouette filled the doorway and he felt the wall blindly for the light switch._

 _When the room brightened, Sam saw Dean and jumped, clutching his chest. "You scared me." He breathed, recovering quickly and taking off his jacket, hanging it on a hook near the door._

 _Dean stayed quiet until Sam passed him and went into the kitchen. He heard the cabinets being opened and then the sound of running water. Sam emerged with a glass of water and sat down on the opposite side of the room, not meeting Dean's eyes._

 _"I thought you were staying at Lisa's tonight?" The teen asked, picking up one of the many books on the coffee table between them._

 _Dean watched as Sam lifted his legs onto the couch and slid down against the arm, opening the book and holding it above his face, seeming to pretend to read it. "I changed my mind." The older Winchester said, his voice low and void of emotion. Sam hmm'ed in acknowledgment and the room was quiet._

 _Then Dean spoke again, intentionally adding a hint of suggestiveness to his voice, "So, did you lose it?"_

 _Sam's eyes widened briefly, then he pursed his lips and feigned ignorance, "Lose what?"_

 _A lewd smile lifted one corner of Dean's mouth. "You know," He said, leaning forward in his chair, "_ It _. Your virginity."_

 _Sam's cheeks tinted pink and he swallowed, then said, "I haven't been a virgin for a while, Dean."_

 _Immediately the blonde's eyebrows raised and he stared at Sam's face, looking for the signs of a tell. He had to be lying. He had to be..._

 _All of a sudden Sam dropped the book on the floor with a heavy thud and sat straight up, both hands flying up to his face. "Ahh!" He cried._

 _Dean leapt up out of his chair and jumped over the coffee table, kneeling beside Sam. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" He demanded, momentarily forgetting everything else._

 _"There's something in my eye!" Sam groaned, grinding his palm into his left eye trying to relieve the pain somehow._

 _Gently, Dean pulled his hand away and said, "Let me see." Concern creased his brow and he cupped Sam's face, tilting the teenager's head so he could get a better view. Slowly, Sam opened his eye, which was rimmed with red from rubbing it. Dean looked carefully and spotted the problem. "It's an eyelash. Don't blink, it's right near the edge. Hold still, I'll be right back."_

 _Dean stood and ran to the kitchen to retrieve a napkin._ _When he returned he saw Sam once again rubbing the eye._

 _"I said don't move." He huffed, getting back down on one knee beside the couch. "I think I got it out." Sam said, blinking away the weird feeling._

 _Dean laid the napkin down and used both hands to turn Sam's face back towards him. "Let me look." He instructed Sam to look up, down, over; which he did._

 _Sure enough, the eyelash was gone._

 _Relieved, Dean gazed intently at Sam's hazel eyes, while the other regarded him with a slight awkwardness at the close proximity. The older of the two marveled at the small specks of gold that lit up his brother's eyes. And he had surprisingly long, dark lashes. They were a girl's lashes but suited him perfectly nonetheless._

 _Suddenly the mood changed, and the taller man found himself face to face with an extremely embarrassed Sam. A blush bloomed across the boy's face and he dropped his eyes to avoid the now heated pair of twin emerald pools._

 _Dean ran his thumb across a rose colored cheek down to Sam's soft bottom lip. He lightly pressed it against Sam's lips, which parted, and smiled to himself._ _"You are such a virgin." He teased quietly._

 _Sam's eyes met Dean's and glinted defensively. But before he could say anything, Dean kissed him, pressing their mouths together. At first it was simply their lips touching; then when Sam didn't react, other than his eyes doubling in shock, Dean deepened the kiss._

 _He slipped his tongue into Sam's mouth and explored, finding the other's and working against it with a steady rhythm. Sam's eyes closed and Dean angled his head to plunge his tongue deeper, claiming unopposed dominance._

 _T_ _hey kissed for a few more moments until Dean ended it, catching Sam's bottom lip carefully between his teeth and gently tugging. The boy moaned softly, his face flushed and his breaths rapid. Dean's own ragged breathing was audible and he inwardly urged himself to calm down._

 _Then it was as if an electric current ran from Sam's skin through Dean._ _The blonde realized all at once what has happening and dropped his hands and stood._ What did I just do...

 _Sam's eyes slowly opened and, when he saw Dean's furrowed brow, he looked away, ashamed of his reaction._

 _"I'm sorry." Dean's tone made the apology sound less apologetic and more appalled._

 _The house was silent and pitch black in darkness except for the one light in that room; like the world didn't exist outside those four walls. But it did. And their father was somewhere out there._

 _Sam's expression was pained. His mouth was clamped shut and he looked like he wanted to run away._

 _Dean couldn't blame him. That had been crossing a line. "I'm so sorry." He said again, running a hand through his unruly hair._

 _Swallowing, the younger Winchester murmured, "Don't worry about it."_

 _Looking at his brother, and realizing the only thing he wanted to do was hold him down and defile him in every way imaginable, Dean, filled with self-hatred, fled. The night was cold and damp, but it brought Dean back to his senses as he strode to his car._

 _It was too hot in that house; hot and closed in with Sam there._

 _Denial tried to chase away the dread building in Dean's stomach, but there was no diguising the truth. He'd just lip-locked with his little brother. He made him_ moan _..._

 _And that one memory had Dean ready to go._

 _The kissing wasn't the big issue. He could easily write it off in the morning as older sibling teasing getting a little out of hand, or a little 'teaching' for the poor virgin, or just a joke. Despite the way Sam reacted, he was sure the teen would be as quick to dismiss it as he was. No, that wasn't the problem._

 _The real problem was the fact that that one short kiss had Dean pitching a tent._

 _Being the playboy that he was, getting hard was never difficult for Dean. But all those girls, especially Lisa, would kill him if they knew that while they were doing it, Dean was playing the same memory over in his head... of Sam jerking himself off in the bathroom._

 _It was two years ago, and Dean happened to be walking by the bathroom door when he heard Sam's voice on the other side. It was a sound he'd never heard_ _the boy make before, a hushed moaning that instantly turned the other boy's blood to fire. For roughly ten minutes, he sat ouside the door, listening intently to the gasps and groans on the other side, carefully rubbing his own erection to lessen the need he felt. He had never wanted to break a door down more in his entire life. But Sam was only fifteen, and his innocence would be no match for Dean's lust filled advances._

 _Since then, every time he had an erection it was because he was thinking of Sam. Taking him, corrupting him, savoring every last drop of innocence until it was all gone, washed away by blackened sin._

 _It was the worst thing that could have happened. Not because Dean took a step into forbidden territory; but because that one taste was enough to make him want more. If Dean hadn't had so much practice with self restraint, he would run back into that house and fuck Sam right now, whether he wanted him to or not._

 _Whether he wanted him to..._

 _Dean laughed bitterly. A flashback to the look of pain and distress on Sam's face after that simple kiss stabbed regret into his chest and twisted the knife. It was unbearable to know that_ he _was the cause of such hurt for his brother. The one person he cared about, wanted to protect, ...just_ wanted _... more than anything._

Completely satisfied with the headway she was making, Diana stored the file and turned off her computer. If only night owling was a socially acceptable practice.

Que sera sera.

Excitement danced behind her closed eyelids as Diana curled up beneath a blanket and prayed sleep would take her. The sooner the teen left behind this day the sooner she could begin the next and return to her beloved work.


End file.
